


Love match

by aljohnson



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Tennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4173168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aljohnson/pseuds/aljohnson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My idea of what may have happened after the Iris Pull and fade to black at the end of Series 3 Episode 7 - Game, Set and Murder.</p>
<p>Contains spoilers for Episode 8. Probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love match

“No, I think you’ve earned the badge.” Phryne tried to breathe as Jack pinned his badge to her dress. Impulsively she raised her hand and stilled his fingers before he could draw them away.

Their eyes met, and Phyrne felt herself swallow deeply. His eyes were practically sparkling. “Thank you” she uttered, her tone lower than she had expected. “I will treasure it.”

Jack made no move to remove his fingers, but Phyrne felt the pads of his first and second fingers stroking the tips of hers. Why couldn’t she tear her gaze away from him? A smile formed on Jack’s face.

“To remind you of your brief secondment to the constabulary?” he asked.

“To remind me of the man who gifted me a piece of himself.” Phryne replied; her breathing seeming ragged even to herself.

“Phryne,” whispered Jack, his hand still remaining where it was. His tone was almost plaintive, Phryne thought.

“Jack,” she replied, in no more than a whisper herself, as she took the merest of steps closer to him. He didn’t move, or flinch, which Phryne took as a good sign. Running her free hand up his chest she cupped his shoulder with her palm and leaned in, pressing her lips carefully to his cheek. As her eyelids fluttered closed she recalled the numerous occasions recently, and the several in particular over the last few days when she had yearned to finally kiss Jack.

Jack slipped his free hand to Phryne’s waist, the movement somehow instinctive.  God how he wanted to kiss her, to feel her warm lips on his; properly this time, and not out of fear or distraction. He made a decision which his rational mind told him was probably very foolish. He decided to ignore himself.

Turning his head their lips met for the briefest of moments. They both paused, Phryne’s eyelids flickering open to meet Jack’s gaze, his eyes now pools of black. Phryne released the fingers which were wrapped around his, moving them to cup his cheek. Jack slid his hand down and around her waist, drawing her body closer to his.

He pressed his lips to meet hers once more, revelling in the softness and warmth. Phryne’s lips parted slightly, the hand cupping his cheek holding him to her. Jack felt her lips part and deepened the kiss.

Phyrne found herself responding, her every nerve ending feeling as if it was sparking with electricity. Jack had been a fair kisser when he had ‘distracted’ her in Anatole’s café, but this was something altogether more profound. He really was a very, very good kisser indeed. It gave her high hopes for when she would eventually be able to persuade him into her boudoir. But she found that for the moment, this was enough. Just kissing him, having wanted to for so long, was enough. They had all the time they wanted, all the time they could need to explore whatever this emotion between them was manifesting into. No, for now, kissing him was enough.

Jack could scarcely believe that this was happening; that somehow no-one had come along to disturb them. He was inordinately grateful that Mrs Stanley was away for a few days more. But where on earth did they go from here? He could admit to himself that he was playing a long game, that he was prepared and had in fact been patiently wooing her. He could bide his time for a while more before he was confident that Phryne was entirely in the same place as he was. She was going nowhere, he could see that now, she was no longer acting like she might run from them at any moment. No, he could continue to play the long game. Game, set and match to Robinson and Fisher, he hoped. 


End file.
